


The Dragon and a Wolf

by Elfy_Elf_Elves



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Comedy, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, I'm Bad At Tagging, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-03-22 22:07:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13773543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elfy_Elf_Elves/pseuds/Elfy_Elf_Elves
Summary: Skyrim was at peace. Alduin the World Eater had been defeated by the Dragonborn and the Stormcloak rebellion had been put down, naming Elisif the Fair High Queen of Skyrim. The Dragonborn, Sigyn, slowly fades into the background, longing for something new. That is until she's flung head first into a black abyss, landing in a strange place called Kirkwall. Between crazy blood mages and stab happy templars, Kirkwall is anything but at peace. And to make matters worse, there's a broody elf with strange markings that drinks too much; just Sigyn's type.





	1. Feeling Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! My name's Sami and I'm trash for crossover fics.

Ice cold wind whips around the Throat of the World, snow mixing with the wind and performing a beautiful dance of nature. Skyrim's two moons emit a glow in the night sky, accompanied by the twinkling distant stars and the colorful aurora bursting with blues and purples. The ground below is covered in a white blanket of snow, setting the scene of a winter wonderland. From the very peak of the mountain, the view of the trees and other distant mountains stretch on for all of eternity. Faint outlines of dragons soaring through the night sky distant, free to roam wherever they wish. Paarthurnax rests perched on the dragon wall, in meditation, contemplating the Way of the Voice. His pale tan scales appear almost ethereal in the night glow, transforming into a shimmering gold; as his horns emit a dim white glimmer. All these elements come together to form a painting-esque scene. The tallest mountain in Skyrim is quiet and secluded from the rest of the world, creating the illusion that High Hrothgar is an entirely different plane of the universe.

Sigyn sits on the peak of the mountain, staring at the vivid scene before her. All is quiet, except for the sound of the wind whipping around the mountain and the distant roars of the dragons flying through the night sky. The freedom of flight calls to Sigyn’s soul, longing to feel the wind furiously whirling around her body as she grazes the clouds. A longing sigh releases from her mouth, a hand reaching out and tracing the dragons faraway from her grasp. Her hand drops back into her lap as Sigyn continues to stare at the view. Everything in Skyrim had been quiet after the defeat of Alduin the World Eater and when the Stormcloak rebellion had been put down. Both achievements were done by Sigyn, the last Dragonborn. Skyrim in her debt for the peace that now resided over it. There is still the pending war between the Empire and the Thalmor, the flimsy peace treaty not enough to sate the cruel elves, but for now, things were quiet.

She felt selfish. A piece of her longed for a form of turmoil, something to rock everyone to the core. Something that would give her life purpose once more. After Alduin was defeated and Paarthurnax left to teach the dovah the Way of the Voice, to fight their instinct to destroy, dragons attacks were a rare occasion. The Companions no longer actively needed her guidance. After defeating Lord Harkon the vampires slinked back to their shadows. And with Ulfric Stormcloak executed in an Imperial siege of Windhelm, the rebel Nords dispersed like ants, coming together under the rule of Queen Elisif.

The people had been grateful to the mysterious Dragonborn. Giving her thanks and singing praises in her name, and there is no end to the invites to have feasts with the Jarls of whatever keeps she may have been in that particular day. But Sigyn didn’t long for bards to sing her story or the people to all know her name, or to have sweet rolls and mead with the high society of Skyrim. She wanted a purpose. A reason to live. She thrives when the world or her land is in dire need of a hero. And now that they didn’t need a hero, she felt lost. Sure, there's always bandits to fight, undead to slay, and people to save. But after fighting more than enough Draugr and bandits to count, saving everyone that she comes across, and exploring every single cave and ruin to be found, she no longer felt fulfilled. Life didn’t have a purpose anymore.

“Dovahkiin, hin gut ha. Your mind is far away. What troubles you, fahdon, friend?” Paarthurnax’s ancient-sounding voice breaks Sigyn out of her deep thinking. Her gaze is immediately drawn to the dragon, his wise eyes staring into her soul. A small smile forms on her face. He always knows when something is wrong with her. Paarthurnax quickly became her greatest mentor and closest friend. Wiser than anyone she’d ever met, Sigyn often credits him for her successful defeat of Alduin. Spending time at the Throat of the World in meditation with him became a soothing routine when everything in the world is pure chaos. But more than that, he’s a trusted friend and confident. The Blades’ request to kill him is the reason that to this day Sigyn refuses to join The Blades.

“Dreh ni worry do zu’u, fahdon. Just lost in my thoughts,” she replies to him. She jumps down from her perch managing to land with cat-like grace, walking across the snow-covered mountaintop to close the distance between them. He lowers his head slightly once she’s standing in front him to make it easier for them to speak.

“Hi haalvut sizaan. You feel lost,” he tells her. Sigyn’s smile wavers slightly and her gaze falls to the ground. Paarthurnax proving once again how in tune he is with her emotions. Slowly she nods her head in agreeance. “And guilt it would seem.” Paarthurnax continues upon seeing her reaction. Sigyn pauses for a moment. She watches the snow falls to the ground and meld with the rest of the snow while contemplating his words.

Guilt. Does she feel guilty? She didn’t even have to think about it for more than a second. Of course she’s guilty. It’s selfish to wish crisis upon innocent people, but also selfish for her to feel this way when there are plenty of people who would help her in a heartbeat. But is this feeling of being lost able to be fixed by friends? She’s seen every Dwemer ruin in Skyrim with Serana; slain every great foe with Aela, Vilkas, and Farkas; took down a vampire overlord with The Dawnguard, and so much more. What else could Skyrim offer her? Gold is no issue, so what’s the point of doing odd jobs just for the sake of doing them? There is no point. Upon coming to this conclusion, Sigyn raises her gaze back up to Paarthurnax and nods in answer to his last question.  

“Now that Skyrim is at peace, I feel like there no purpose for me. My entire destiny was based on killing Alduin, and now that I have, and then some, I’m struggling with what to do with myself.” Sigyn confesses to Paarthurnax. If anyone on Nirn would understand her inner turmoil, it would be him.

“Drem, mal gein, patience little one, and all shall be revealed in time.” With those final words of wisdom, his wings stretch. The full length of them being starling- showing how large the dragon truly is. He flaps them, giving a push off the ground and taking off in flight. Sigyn watches as he flies away from the mountain, once again feeling that tug on her soul, longing for that freedom. Once his form was no longer visible, she scoffs slightly, shaking her head with a smile on her face.

“Patience, the old man says.” Sigyn turns to face the path that leads down to High Hrothgar. It’s well past the respectable time to be awake, and if she wanted to be awake at a reasonable time tomorrow, it would be best to go to sleep now. With one last look at the sky and a single sigh, Sigyn begins the descent back to High Hrothgar. The overwhelming feeling of confusion and guilt fresh on her mind.

* * *

 

Phrases used: 

- Dreh ni worry do zu’u, fahdon ( Do not worry about me, friend.) 

Also oddly enough, there is no word that means worry or that's similar to it in the draconic in Skyrim *shrugs shoulders* 

Don't forget to comment and leave Kudos! I'd love to know what you think so far! Also, constructive criticism welcomed, I'm always looking to improve my writing. <3


	2. Black Abyss

 

“Why do they even bother?” Sigyn mutters angrily to herself, crumpling a piece of parchment the courier had brought to her. It was yet another letter from Sky Haven Temple, this time from Esbern, begging her to realize that killing Paarthurnax would be the good thing to do. How many unanswered letters and unfulfilled requests to visit Sky Haven Temple until they realized just as they’d made their decision so had she. Often times, Esbern’s letter would try a logical approach. Telling her of the crimes that Paarthurnax had committed during the reign of the dragons as Alduin's second in command and that killing him is the only option. Meanwhile Delphine would try to appeal to her inner hero. Going on and on about the glory days of The Blades, and how Sigyn could be the one to restore that if she only did the right thing. She would also mention the dragon population needing to be decimated once and for all. Sigyn saw no need for that. After Alduin’s defeat, the dragons realized Alduin wasn’t the strongest in the Thu’Um, therefore he was no longer worthy as a leader. Most dragons accepted Paarthurnax’s teaching to an extent. Dragon attacks had been far and few in between, most being started by a glory-seeking idiot who thought to slay a dragon. It never ended well for them. Majority of the dragons content on top of a secluded mountain far away from any travelers.

Each letter would end up crumpled up and abandoned on the floor of wherever she happened to be at the moment of reading it. This particular moment, Sigyn was walking through Whiterun when the courier had stopped her with the letter.

“Another letter from the esteemed Blades?” Serana’s silvery voice rings from beside Sigyn. She turned her head to look at the vampire, an exasperated expression on her face. Serana pulled her hood up in an attempt to shield away the little daylight that was rapidly disappearing. Bits and pieces of her face were still visible, piercing amber eyes easily identifiable. A sardonic grin graced Serana's face. Out of all of the factions and people that Serana had met since meeting Sigyn, the Blades were among her least favorite. She viewed them as two washed up people who couldn't let go of their "glory days". In her opinion they allow their short-sided tendencies to control everything, a trait her father had shared. It made her ecstatic to find out Sigyn wanted nothing to do with them, especially after finding out what they’d requested the Dragonborn to do.

“This one was from Esbern this time. He suggests I come to Sky Haven Temple to discuss possible dragon attacks.” Sigyn plainly said, rolling her light blue eyes at his attempt to lure Sigyn to the temple. She assumes they thought this tactic incredibly sly, but Sigyn found it too obvious, even for them.

“What dragon attacks?” Serana asked, already knowing the answer to the question. Sigyn easily became her most trusted companion, and probably her only companion. Despite her tough exterior, Serana could see how deeply hurt Sigyn was by the treatment she received from the Blades. They refused to acknowledge her connection with the dragons, they just saw her as the ultimate dragon slayer. The Blades saw winged monsters not capable of humanity but to her they’re equal. She has no right to mindlessly slaughter them.

It’s inhumane.

It's murder.

Sigyn snorted, throwing the crumpled parchment ball to the ground. “Exactly.” And just like that, the conversation was over and they were once again making their way to the city gates. There had been talk by the people in Skyrim of a strange black portal that opened up near Whiterun, and Sigyn decided to check it out, bringing Serana with her. Serana had always been up for a new adventure and Sigyn enjoyed having her around. It's nothing romantic, but a sisterly bond. Neither of them had a normal family life so they found comfort in their shared childhood trauma. Serana joined Sigyn so much that she'd taken to traveling at night. Though she never complained about the sunlight, Sigyn knew that vampirism would make any sunlight exposure uncomfortable. The small accommodation warmed Serana's unbeating heart furthering her admiration of the woman. 

They'd made it a couple paces away from Palagia Farm, which was just outside the city walls before Serana broke the silence.

“I wonder what this could be?” curiosity laced in her tone. The same question was ringing around Sigyn’s head since hearing about it.

Could this be yet another epic adventure?

She prayed it was and not just some Daedric hoax to mess with her. Sigyn shrugged her shoulder in response, not quite knowing how to respond. She’d gone through any and every scenario in her head, but they never made sense. The mysterious portal appeared about a week prior. Everyone she questioned saying the same thing. ‘It appeared out of nowhere.’  It was maddening to go into a situation so blind, but a part of the mystery excites Sigyn just a hair more.  

“Perhaps it’s the Daedra’s answer to the peace in Skyrim. Talos knows they thrive off of chaos.” Sigyn said. She’s had more than a few encounters with the Daedric Princes and each time regretted them. Except for when she cleared out Meridia’s temple, the only bitter taste in her mouth was from the necromancer, Dawnbreaker a beautiful boon for her efforts. Besides that Sigyn steered away from anything Daedric related.

Except for this apparently.

“That’s my guess,” Serana muttered. They continue walking for another two or three hours. The farther they walked the more deserted the area seemed, not a soul to be heard. The closer they got, the colder the area became until it’s nearly unbearable, even for a Nord such as Sigyn. Then along with the cold, the wind began to pick up to the point Sigyn could feel her braided ponytail whipping around, stray blonde hairs blowing into her face. Soon the wind was the only thing to be heard for miles.

“We must be getting close!” Sigyn shouted to Serana over the howling winds. “Prepare yourself!” she continued. Her hand went to grab her dragonbone greatsword, hoping her dragon scale armor would be enough protection from whatever they were about to face. She could feel a shout on the tip of her tongue, ready to use in the instant it was needed. A cold prickly feeling crept up on Sigyn. A menacing aura so thick it could be tasted. Whatever this was it wasn't pleasant.  If Sigyn and Serana had been regular adventurers, it would cause them to run in terror in the opposite direction. But Sigyn wasn't a milk drinker or normal by any standards.

“What did you say?” Serana shouted over the roaring wind. She held onto her cloak in an attempt to keep it from flying over her head and obscuring her vision. At this point, the both of them were slightly crouched to try and keep their footing. The last thing either of them needed was to be blown away. 

“I said, we must be-” Sigyn started to repeat her previous statement, but she never got the chance. Screams interrupted her words and then everything went pitch black. Sigyn felt herself falling, but couldn't see where or how far. She realized that the screams are her own. Panic consumed Sigyn. The last thing she heard was Serana screaming her name.

* * *

 

Sigyn felt herself slowly coming back to consciousness. She felt a hand tightly holding her legs and dragging her across the ground. Occasional rocks snagged on various parts of her armor.

 _'Environment, what's your_ environment _?'_

Birds chirped in in the background as the sound of waves crash against the shore. A contest to be the loudest. Faint shouts in the distance linger in her mind. The words weren't comprehensible, a jumble of mumbling and curse words. The ground beneath her moved with her body and felt finer than indicating it was sand. A quick taste of the salty air confirmed Sigyn's location. She was on a coast.

But which coast?

Without opening her eyes, Sigyn knew that her hair was a tangled mess. The sound of her armor scraped against the sound grates in her ears. It caused Sigyn to cringe at the possible damage to her armor.

_'How long am I going to find sand in my armor?'_

Her greatsword had been taken from her by her apparent captors. Smart of them to try and leave her defenseless, except she didn't need a weapon to cause them harm. Unless of course they cut out her vocal cords. The sounds from the shore began to get more distant the longer she was dragged. Close by she could hear the echoes of people chatting in a cave. They're heading right towards the voices.

_'I just need to wait for the right moment to strike.'_

"Got 'nother one did ya?" a male accented voice said. It was an accent that Sigyn never heard before.

"Sure did. Found 'er washed up on shore. She a pretty thing init she? Had a big sword with 'er that I'm sure the boss'll get good use of." Her captor answered. He had the mannerisms of a pirate. He also talked in the same accent as the other guy.

"I'm sure the boss'll find plenty of good uses for 'er. Go on then." the other man laughed crudely, his implications clear.

_'It won't reach that far.'_

Her captor simply grunted in reply and began dragging he once more. The cave had more rocks scattered on the ground than the coast did. If her armor wasn't damaged before, it definitely was missing a few scales now. They walked for another couple of minutes, the man dragging her grunting or making small remarks to people as he passed by them. Until finally we stopped. He let out a deep breath then knocked on a door.

"Boss. Got someone 'ere for you."

Silence.

So he knocked again. "This one is sure to make a pretty penny."

Again, no one responded.

Sigyn held her breath for a moment, the anticipation unnerved her. After a moment, the creak of a door opening echoed in the tunnel. The man dragged Sigyn again before he abruptly stopped.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked. Then chaos broke out in the room. The captor lets go of her arm to prepare to fight. Sigyn took this as her chance to act. Sigyn opened her eyes and jumped to her feet, acting fast.

_'One second could mean life or death.'_

"FUS RO DAH" she Shouted at the bandit that once held her captive. He went flying to the other side of the cavern, his body landed on top of an elevated platform. It smacked into the wall the bones in his body cracked under the pressure. The sound of the Shout rung through the cavern and bled into the tunnel Sigyn came from. Quickly, she assessed the surroundings. Four people stood in formation, weapons ready for the fight they never participated in. Two warriors- a human woman and a male elf with markings that glowed- both wielding greatswords; a female elven mage; and a very short man with a crossbow.

"Well shit." the short man said. "That's one way to take care of a situation." he began to put away his crossbow, his companions beginning to relax. Until the sound of footsteps running towards them rang in the room. Sigyn knew that the bandit had her greatsword and a quick glance confirmed it. It gleamed in the dim light, dusty from the sand. 

"Gods be praised," she muttered before darting to the other side of the cavern towards her sword. She runs up a few steps, the sword placed amongst other various trinkets and bobbles. She managed to grasp the sword in her hands before more bandits ran into the cavern. Sigyn jumped into action, not a second wasted. Never being the type to use stairs, Sigyn launched off the ledge and landed in the thick of the battle. Bandits surrounded her, but are nothing more than child's play for the Dragonborn. A flurry of slicing through people with her sword and shouting them into a wall where they met their end at a crossbow bolt or a bolt of fire was the rhythm of the fight. Sigyn felt adrenaline rushing through her core, the inner dragon in her coming out for battle. The poorly armed bandits never stood a chance. In a matter of seconds, a minute at most, the bandits all lie motionless on the ground. 

Dead silence.

The four were huffing and puffing, trying to catch their breath, from the energy exerted in the battle. Sigyn stared at them as each of them scrutinized her. Until the warrior woman with cropped black hair, piercing blue eyes, and a single red stripe across her nose broke the tense silence.

"Holy. Fucking. Shit. That was awesome!" She jumped into the air and flung her weapon carelessly to the ground. Sigyn cringed at the blatant disregard the woman had for her weapon. The woman ran up to Sigyn, resembling an excited puppy, stopping about a hair away from her. Sigyn took a step back, mildly uncomfortable from the closeness. "How did you do that?" she asked, eyes wide in amazement. Sigyn took another step away from her.

"I don't believe that concerns you." Sigyn kept her tone even, she tried to assess her current predicament. "Where in Tamriel are we? I've never heard accents like this in Skyrim or Cyrodil." The strange woman paused for a moment, her brows furrowed and lips pursed tightly, her head slightly to the left slightly.

_'Has she never heard of any of those cities? I must be farther away than I originally thought.' Sigyn thinks to herself._

"I don't know any of those places you just said. But you're in Kirkwall, well outside of Kirkwall." the woman answered. What are these accents these people have?

"And where is Kirkwall?" Sigyn asked, having never heard of a place named Kirkwall.

"Well, Kirkwall is a part of the Free Marches, but if you want to be vague as vague can be, you're in Thedas." The woman answered, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Sigyn nodded along before what the strange woman said to her registered in her brain.

Thedas?

"Shit." Sigyn murmured to herself.


	3. Trick of the Daedra

“Why do they always run?” The woman with black hair whines to her dwarf companion, who shrugs, before chasing after Sigyn. After coming to the conclusion that she is no longer in Skyrim, or even Tamriel, she rushed to the exit and away from the group.

_ Time. I need time to process. _

This has to be a joke. A cruel game the Daedra are playing to get their daily entertainment. This is absurd. A different world. This illusion must have taken much time and energy from the Daedra to get it this realistic and believable. Too bad all the work went to waste.

Walking out of the tunnels and towards the exit, Sigyn took care of the few remaining bandits, cleanly finishing them with her greatsword. It slid through their pathetic excuses for armor like butter. Briefly, she’d stop to search an occasional chest or two, grabbing the shiny gold and pretty objects, but never lingered in the same spot for too long. Surely the group of fighters and mages would catch up if she did. Convinced that this is all a sick trick, Sigyn convinced herself that they were mere pawns in this game. They would strike her down. That could not be allowed. 

Stepping out into the warmth of the outdoors, Sigyn feels the sea salt imbued air flutter past her. The birds still chirped in the distance and the waves crash against the sand on the shore. Except the illusion has been broken. The trickster has been out tricked. Thrusting her sword up, stabbing the empty air Sigyn shouts.

“You hear that! You have not fooled me!” She roars into the air. Viciously, she stabs at the sky until she runs out of air. Not knowing what else to say, she simply screams, at the top of her lungs. Throwing her sword to the ground her screams become softer until their inaudible. Huffing and puffing heavy breaths, she falls to her knees. 

_ What if this is real?  _

_ What if I truly am in a different universe? _

“This isn’t what I meant!” She meekly yells up at the sky, at a loss of energy to be any louder. She wanted an adventure, an adventure with friends. This isn't that. This is a nightmare come reality. This is isolation with a chance she may never return home.

“Like I always say Varric. Never doubt your nose, mouth, or ears. Those things‘ll never lead a person astray.” The voice of the woman from before sounds behind Sigyn. Someone snorts at her words.

“Now you sound like a marbari, Hawke.” A male voice says, amusement tingeing his words.

“I am from Ferelden.” The woman quips. The sounds of footsteps walking on sand reach Sigyns ears before someone taps her back with an object. Stiffly turning her head, Sigyn sees it’s the female elf with face tattoos poking her with a staff. Her eyes are wide and mouth forms an ‘O’ shape, the woman jumps back as soon as Sigyn makes eye contact. She resembles a spooked doe or a rabbit. She’s dressed in dark chainmail pants and quarter sleeves with fur covering the shoulders. A green tunic that tapers to her knees is the focal point of her armor along with fingerless leather gloves and thigh high leather boots. Though most of her feet are exposed. A light green scarf and thick leather belt with gold accents ties together her entire look. Her skin so pale, it almost glows in the daylight; hair cropped to just above her neck styled in multiple small ponytails.

_ She may resemble a Bosmer elf, but this woman carries none of their fearless prowess. _

“Yes?” Sigyn questions the girl. She blinks a few times before breaking out of whatever trance she was in. 

“Are you alright? You were screaming rather loudly.” The elven woman kindly asks. Her eyes are wide as a doe, the tiny ponytails in her hair swayed with wind. Combined with her wide-eyed expression and puppy-like demeanor confirmed she isn’t a native to the savage forests of Valenwood. She was obviously raised in a more sheltered environment.

_ But this isn’t Tamriel.  _ A small voice in her head reminded Sigyn.

_That's what they want me to think._    


Her eyes watches the strange elf with suspiciousus gaze. Sigyn slowly stands to her feet, dusting off the sand that clung to her legs. Standing at her full height she towered over the small elf. The rest of the group who stood at the cave entrance watched with sharp eyes. The woman with black hair took a step forward, watching Sigyn warily with a hand touching the tip of the hilt of her sword. Her armor is mismatched. Majority of the pieces a steel plate, but one pauldron was a padded red material. Light tan pants were visible on her thighs and red accented the upper half of the armor. To put it lightly, the woman’s armor looked horrendous. But the sly smirk resting on her sharp features, along with the red stripe on her nose and messy cropped black hair, showed how little the woman cared about matching armor. A giant greatsword rested against her back, different from the previous one the woman had.

“I’m fine, elf.” She tells the smaller woman. The elf nods her head. A dopey smile appears on her face and her eyes twinkle brightly. She takes a step toward Sigyn, as she does this the woman with black hair takes a step closer to the elven woman. 

“I’m Merrill by the way.” She holds her hand out to Sigyn, who stares at her outstretched hand before hesitantly taking it into her own. Merrill shakes her hand vigorously, showing how enthused she is. She immediately pulls her hand away and turns around when the black haired woman takes another step. She looks back at Sigyn and her mouth forms an ‘O’ shape again. “I almost forgot! This is Hawke!” She gestures to the black haired woman. She looks at Hawke before speaking again “Hawke this is…” Merrill trails off and looks at Sigyn with a confused expression. “Well I don’t know, never got your name.” She says, her voice demure.

“I am Sigyn” She stiffy tells them, nodding her head at Hawke in acknowledgment. Hawke’s hand lowered from the hilt of her greatsword down to her side and quirked an eyebrow at Sigyn. Merrill’s face instantly brightens at Sigyn’s input. She still isn’t sure if this is real or a trick played by a Daedra, her guard not fully dropped. 

_ Always stay on high alert in any unknown situation. _

_ Especially when it involves the Daedra. _

“Well Sigyn, you sure know how to make an impression. And I thought I made dramatic entrances.” Hawke snidely tells her, taking another step so she stood by Merrill. One foot in from of the other, ready to protect the small elf if needed. Sigyn bristles at the words. Her posture straightened to stand at her full height and tilted her chin upwards. 

“Where am I?” Sigyn’s voice booms fiercely, overpowering all the background sounds. Past instances proved she only needed to intimidate people with her words and presence, the smart people ran. It was the idiots that tried to fight her that ended up dead. 

Hawke snickered at her question, not trying to be discreet in any way. “Didn’t I already tell you. Kirkwall. You’re in Kirkwall; in the Free Marches; in Thedas.” She explains to Sigyn in a way an adult would chide a small child. Sigyn’s eyes narrowed the slightest at her tone. This woman dared belittle her?

“Enough of your games. I will not be fooled. In the name of Talos I demand you reveal yourself, fiend.” Sigyn commanded the woman. Merrill looks confused by her words, tilting her head to the side. Hawke’s snickering turned into a hearty chuckle. The small man with a crossbow and the glowing elf stepped out of the cave entrance to stand behind Hawke and Merrill. The short man watched the exchange bemused while the glowing elf intently watched Sigyn. 

The short man had blonde hair that was tied back. He wore a gold chain necklace with a matching gold ring in the middle of it along with earing commonly seen on Khajiit. His jawline was sharp and his nose large and prominent. A thick leather coat and matching gloves added slight protection the gold embroidered red tunic lacked. The plunging neckline on his shirt left little imagination to the mind, golden chest hair freely displayed. A thick green belt acted as another fashion accessory, with thick leather pants and heavy boots. A wicked looking crossbow rested against his back. The passive smirk on his face cemented his roguish appearance. He easily could pass for a Nord if not for his lack of height. 

The glowing elf looked far more intimidating than the smaller one. White markings were painted on his skin, almost appearing burned into him. Stark white messy hair lied atop his head, a contrast to his dark eyebrows. High cheekbones complimented his sharp nose, differing from Merrill’s dainty nose. Wide green eyes watched with suspicion, so different from the innocent doe eyed look of Merrill. He wore no marking to his face except for the white markings the crawled from his neck to his chin. His armor appeared to be a black hide with a silver breastplate attached. Silver clawed gauntlets accented his armor. Most of his arms were exposed, showing off the intricate markings. Black feathers hug his shoulders and black hide pants hug his legs. The only foot protection he wore was a thin piece of the fabric from his pants that circled around the middle of his feet. This pointed and very prominent ears the only indicator of his elven heritage. The giant sword resting against his back and fierce demeanor aligned with a Nord than that of Mer.

“I have no idea what you’re on about. But crazy is nothing new to Kirkwall.” Hawke turns to look at the small man. “Maybe she’s had too much…” She gestures drinking from a bottle. The man laughs under his breath. Neither of the Mer reacts to Hawke. The glowing elf’s gaze is piercing, the opposite of Merrill’s gaze. Her’s is of a confused puppy while he aligns with the intense gaze of Isran, the leader of the Dawnguard. 

“I said enough!” Sigyn yells louder than before. She grew restless of this game. Serana is probably worried about where she went, assuming the worst fate. She may have even notified her other companions, getting them in a frenzy to find the Dragonborn. The war between the Thalmor and the Empire is on the horizon and if Tamriel is to have a chance against those damned elves, Sigyn is a vital player. Without the fearsome Dragonborn, all of Tamriel could fall. Besides that, who would visit Knight-Paladin Gelebor? Would Serana keep up the routine of bringing new books and other knick-knacks to Gelebor while telling him anything that’s changed since their last visit? And The Companions, even though Sigyn was hardly called upon for wisdom, what would her disappearance mean for them? She refused to succumb to the idea of the reality being authentic. Too many relied on her presence in Skyrim, even if most days it didn’t feel that way.

‘ _ This isn’t what I had in mind.’ _

“Listen lady. I don’t know what you’ve been drinking, and I wouldn’t mind if you shared, but as far as I know, this is real.” Hawke told her. Even when being serious her voice was tinged with amusement and sarcasm. “And I’m not even going to ask who Talzo or whatever the name was.” Hawke finishes, waving her hand dismissively. Sigyn’s eyes hardened more than they were and her jaw locked. The glowing elf’s gaze turned sharper at the change in expression, while the short man muttered “Shit”. Merrill continued to be oblivious to the tension, her mind wandering to something else.

“I will not ask again. Reveal yourself.” Sigyn demanded. She gets into a defensive position, readying a shout on the tip of her tongue. This game will continue no longer. Hawke just rolls her eyes. She motions in Merrill general direction. An exasperated sigh left her mouth before calling Merrill’s name, pulling the elf out of her daydream. 

“What? Oh right. The thing.” Before Sigyn has the opportunity to reach for her weapon or unleashes a shout upon them, Merrill says something in a strange tongue. She then points a single finger at Sigyn. Sigyn feels every bone in her body stiffen to the point she can’t move. Her body is frozen in places and it slowly falls backward. Pain erupts through her body from the fall, but she’s unable to move to try and soothe the aches. 

‘ _ Damned magic!’ _

“I tried to be nice.” Is all Hawke says afterward, motioning at the glowing elf, who walks over to Sigyn’s paralyzed body. He easily and carelessly flings her body over his shoulder. In normal circumstances, his show of brute strength would stir something in Sigyn, but not when he’s dragging her somewhere unknown while she’s paralyzed.

* * *

 

The entire trip, the group proceeded to have playful and light-hearted banter with each other, despite Sigyn’s frozen form tossed over the shoulder of one of them. The advantage of this, it gave Sigyn a chance to observe the group. Hawke and the short man, who’s named Varric, seemed to do most of the talking. Hawke danced from walking with Varric to standing with Merrill. The elven woman spent most of the trip wandering into a daydream while staring at her various surrounding. Occasionally she would say something, her voice littered with naive wonder. Hawke or the short man would answer her ridiculous questions in stride, Hawke’s answers usually causing the fair elf to blush brightly. However, when the glowing elf, who’s called Fenris, answered Merrill, he tended to retort spitefully or venomously. For a moment, Sigyn wondered if the woman did anything to him until she realized that was how he talked to everyone in the group. Any of the jabs from Hawke or the short man were met with terse responses or a growl in most cases. The group created an unusual dynamic, making Sigyn wonder how they’d last as an adventuring party.

The most surprising thing was when they reached a city, which must be the Kirkwall Hawke was talking about. None of the guards batted an eye at the group walking in with a paralyzed woman being carried. Some guards nodded at Hawke or kept their gazes away from the group. Citizens moved out of their to clear a path but didn’t react otherwise. Few whispered to each other's ears as the group passed by, but most of the city paid them no mind, making Sigyn believe this type of behavior wasn’t abnormal.

They’d walked until reaching what appeared to be the nicer part of the town. More guards were patrolling while the citizens wore finer clothes. Women walked around in expensive-looking dresses, adorned with shiny jewelry and perfectly styled hair. The men walked around in silk outfits with puffy pants and sleeves and groomed hair with gleaming rings and pins. How ridiculous they all looked. The expressions the people wore reminded her of Nazeem from Whiterun. Sigyn didn’t like Nazeem. Another thing she noticed was there were no elves in this part of town. In fact, a single elf hadn’t been spotted in any other part of the city, beside Merrill and the glowy one. The group stopped walking upon reaching a relatively nice manor. Hawke opened the door and ushered the rest of the group inside, giving Sigyn an impish smile, further infuriating the Nord. Inside the manor, two other short men were standing by the entrance into the living area. They shared similar features to Varric, but slightly different. One of them had an odd look to him. An eerie smile with equally eerie blue eyes. 

“Back already, Serah Hawke? I see you’ve brought your friends with you. Your mother went out to the market and will be returning shortly.” The taller of the short men said. Both of them were dressed in clothes that were an earthy brown and red with gold lining. The man that talked had light brown hair just below his ears with a full beard. The facial hair on his chin braided into an intricate braid. The other one had cropped blonde hair and a clean-shaven face. His blue eyes stared at my unmoving form with a dopey smile on his face. 

“Thank you Bodahn.” Hawke tells the man who spoke. He nods a single time and smiles. His eyes land on Sigyn slung over glowy elf’s shoulder. His eyes widen for a moment, but the rest of his reaction goes unseen. They step into another room in the manor. This one had bookshelves lining the walls. Tables with chairs were scattered in the corner along with a plush couch with equally fine sitting chairs.

Varric made himself comfortable on the couch, setting his crossbow beside him. Merrill glided over to one of the sitting chairs and sat down. Fenris carelessly threw Sigyn into another one of the chairs. He grabbed the rope from one of his many belt pouches and began to tie her up. Meanwhile, Hawke stood by the entrance of the room, cuffing her hands around her mouth. 

“Dog! Come here, boy!” Hawke yells at the top of her lungs. If facial expressions were available to her, Sigyn would be cringing from the pitch of her voice. A few moments later, louder footsteps could be heard running towards the room. A massive dog jumps into the room, tackling Hawke to the floor. She fell on the floor laughing while the dog stands on top of her licking Hawke’s face. The dog gets off Hawke and runs over to the chair Sigyn is restrained to. It sits in front of her and stares intently at her. It’s the size of a small child! A glimmer of intelligence is in its eyes as it assesses her. Hawke stands up from the ground and walks over to stand by the dog.  

“Now. Are you going to play nice and not attack us or are we going to have to keep you like this forever?” Hawkes chides Sigyn, speaking slowly to ensure understanding. The wicked smirk on her face and a mischievous glint in her eyes boil Sigyn’s blood, but she tries to compose herself. Hawke turns her head to the left, straightening her posture and scrunching her eyebrows.

“Why yes Hawke, I’ll do anything you say. You’re so awesome and I could only dream of being as strong and powerful as you.” Hawke says in a higher pitch, trying to mimic someone else talking. She turns her head to face forward again, eyebrows relaxing and slouching to her normal posture. 

“Oh, you’re too kind Sigyn.” She waves her hand in the air like she trying to wave off the comments. Hawke turns to Merril, who sitting in the chair across from Sigyn. “Go ahead and undo the thingy you did.” Merrill smiles brightly and stands from her chair. She takes a step towards Sigyn and waves her hand, saying something in a language unknown to her. In an instant, she felt her muscle relaxing and mobility returning to her. Besides the rope tied around her, thanks to Fenris. “Better?” Hawke asked her. She snaps her gaze to the woman. Her jaw tightens, mouth forming a thin line and eyes narrowing the slightest. 

“What do you want?” Sigyn’s cold voice crisper than the Skyrim winter air. Hawke exaggerates a sigh. The top half of her body falls over with arms dangling to the side. Immediately she straightens her posture.

“Obviously we didn’t get off on a good foot.” Hawke begins to explain. Sigyn snorts at her words. “And obviously you’re not drunk or on anything, I would’ve smelled it.” She taps the side of her nose and Sigyn rolls her eyes. In the background, Varric snorts at her remark.

“Hawke.” Fenris says impatience laced his voice. Hawke turns to him and holds a hand up to him. 

“I’m getting there alright.” She turns back to Sigyn. “Where are you from? How do you do that voice thing?” She asks her eyes alight with curiosity. Mentally, Sigyn runs through her options. 

_ ‘Either, tell them the whole truth and possibly get aid in returning home. Or lie to them, hope they release me or escape by my own means and try to get home alone while maneuvering a new world.’ _

“I hail from Skyrim, on the continent of Tamriel. Located on the world Nirn.” Sigyn begins to explain. Hawke leans forward from the anticipation for Sigyn to continue with her explanation. “The ‘voice thing’ as you call it is the Thu’um or a shout. It is the voice of the dragons.” At the mention of dragons, Hawke throws her body forward, landing with her arms resting on Sigyn’s knees. Face to face with the Nord. Her eyes large and mouth wide open. Sigyn leans back in the chair trying to get as much distance between her and the strange woman as possible. 

“And shouting, people can just do that?” Hawke asked resembling a curious child. 

“No. For the regular person, it would take years of meditation and dedication to the Way of the Voice. They are called the Greybeards. They spend their entire life in contemplation. But I am no Greybeard. I am Dragonborn, a mortal born with the soul of a dragon, because of that I am gifted with the ability to use the Thu’um.” She explains to them. The members of the group had various reactions. Merrill was obvious, she gasped loudly and placed her hands over her mouth, doe-like eyes wide in wonder. Varric just muttered an “Oh shit” wearing a stunned expression. Fenris managed to contain a poker face, the only thing betraying his surprise was his eyes widening for a fraction of a second. Hawke’s reaction was the most obvious to Sigyn since her face is mere inches away from Sigyn’s. Her eyes widened more is even possible and she pushed her face even closer to Sigyn’s 

“Teach me.” Hawke tells her drawing out each word in a tone barely louder than a whisper. 

“No.” Sigyn simply tells her.

“Why not?” Hawke whines, letting her body slowly slide from Sigyn’s lap and onto the ground. 

“Because I do not want to. You don’t have the patience to learn and I will not waste my time.” Sigyn answers, refusing to even look at the foolish woman at her feet. 

_ She must be an Imperial. _

“If you teach me I’ll let you go!” Hawke says, now clutching Sigyn’s legs in her arms. Sigyn’s could feel the light twitch of one of her eyes as her lips set into a tighter line.

“I will not bargain such a powerful skill with the likes you just to be set free from your shoddy rope.” Sigyn’s voice is stone cold. The short patience she has is being quickly used up by this woman.

“But you don’t even know me!” Hawke whines, throwing her head to the ground.

“And I don’t want to. Now release me.” Sigyn argues back.

“No.” Hawke stands up and crosses her arms, pouting like a petulant child not getting their way. Sigyn’s mind briefly flashes to Jarl Balgruuf's spoiled children. Always complaining about sweet rolls and such.

Varric stands up from his spot and leisurely walks over to stand beside Hawke. “Killer, keeping her tied up isn’t going to convince her to teach you her party trick.” Sigyn opens her mouth to retort to his jab at the Thu’um being a party trick, but is cut off by a scalding glare from Fenris. Hawke exaggerates a sigh while pretending to think, tapping her chin and staring at the ceiling. 

“I guess you're right.” Hawke looks at Sigyn directly in the eye, a coy grin on her face. “Sigyn you are free to go...if you can escape the rope on your own!” Varric opens his mouth to protest but is interrupted by Hawke pushing them to the couch to spectate. Fenris scoffs but sits down anyway. Merrill is still lost in her own world. Sigyn sighs and relaxes for a moment. Then she pulls on the basic magic that Serana taught her on one of their adventures. She focuses her mind and then flexes.

Flames erupt from her body and burn the rope, but leaves her person and belongings unscathed. Fenris jumps up at the use of magic, eyes wide in alarm. Hawke looks like an excited child, while Varric looks impressed. Merrill had finally been broken out of her daydream by the use of magic and simply stared at everyone in the room with doe eyes.

“What’d I miss?” She asks.


End file.
